El tango de Roxanne

Why does my heart cry?

Sweetheart, I’ve drowning in stupidity these days. I’m not as good as before. I became silly, slut. I walk through the bohemian night, hiding myself behind bitter blues and sweet solitude. I dance, crazy lady, with the first one that proposes. I cry and I sing our songs between screaming and a fake epileptic attack. But nobody notices, sweetheart. Can you see me? I think about you. Can you hear me? Absinth makes me drunk while green fairies teach me how to tango. Scarlet dress showing wobbly legs. So insecure under the garter belt and an old corset. The carmine, the heavy makeup trying in vain to hide the features of despair, elude bohemians like me. The night has me. I do not remember the color of the sun, but the darkness is much worse than this gray shadow. I’m in a bar, sweetheart - hidden in clouds of cigarettes and broken dreams. I write because the jukebox plays our waltz. Dance with me over this song? Later I die in your arms. Tuberculosis or any other evil of the bohemian life. You will feel guilty and I’ll finally be at peace. Dance with me? Then leave me again, trade me by another love. I would lose my mind again, burning with jealousy while the jukebox plays El Tango de Roxanne. Why does my heart cry?